Kareta Zakuro
by Serenity Takaishi
Summary: Misaki finally has a bit of courage, but Usagi-san is the one who can't seem to catch a break.   What will usagi-san do when he runs out of Misaki forever?  what a terrible summary...  yaoi ;
1. Act One

A/N: This was going to be a one-shot, but I started to get amazing ideas for it, so, don't be hating on me for not updating It's been one week! Please, I'm getting to it :) I promise. And the name has nothing to do with anything yet, it's just a sub. title. Please, enjoy.

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><p><strong><span>Kareta Zakuro.<span>**

The silver curtains are pulled tight together, yet the sun still manages to beat through in streams against his face. He squints as his eyes travel past the trains, bears, and board games to the midday sun. The distant sound of birds singing and children playing echo in his ears; today was such a beautiful lie, he thinks to himself, reaching out to shade himself from the afternoon's shining sky.

Rolling over on his side, Ahikiko knows better than to reach out to touch Misaki's side of the bed. He hesitates for a moment before placing his arm back under the white blankets. Groaning, he lets his mind drift for what seemed like hours before he attempts to drag his body from the warm sheets.

He hauls the covers off him and slumps against the wooden floor. His periwinkle eyes trace to knobs and crevasses of the hardwood before his ears twitch at the sound of the ringing phone. For a brief second, Ahikiko's heart stops, and a smile replaces to scowl that has been his face for the past couple of days, but he stops himself. With a bitter laugh, he manages to pull himself to the phone.

"Hello?" his voice comes out hard and almost unrecognizable.

"Sensei, are you about ready?" Aikawa's voice, shaking, speaks through the receiver.

Glancing around the empty house, Ahikiko listens to the silence that has cursed the place. Meal times were eaten with the patter of rain against the roof; showers where the water hummed in his ears; and there is the moment the sun sinks under the buildings and street signs. The cold air rushes in through open windows and the cackles and sobs are just a friendly reminder.

"_What are you talking about, Misaki? What do you mean? Are you crying?"_

"Sure I am," Ahikiko places the phone back on it's jack before he heads to the bathroom; in no time at all, he looks clean-shaven, crisp, and fresh in his black suit jacket, tie, and trousers. Just seconds before Ahikiko starts to think about what is to come, the buzzard from his door echoes around his head.

He slips to the door, his feet sliding across the floor, "Ta-takahiro?" he asks, completely shocked as his friend walks in. "What are you doing here?"

Takahiro stands fiddling his thumbs. The color has drained from his face, and his suit looked two sizes to large. He couldn't meet Ahikiko's eyes, instead he stared down.

"Usagi-san," he starts, "The other day…I know I acted foolish, and I don't…" he trails off, the words slipping out of his mouth. Nothing seems to be coming back; he was simply standing there, wringing his hands, eyes interested in the details of the floor.

Ahikiko's wrinkles his nose. Just a few days ago, all at once he'd lost all respect for the man standing in front of him. His best friend of over a decade; his fantasy playmate; his sole ray of sunshine…until Misaki. The lump of ice in his chest hardens a tad bit more as the dark-haired man stands in the door way.

"All right…" Ahikiko finally says, his hands called into fists at his side. "Aikawa is going to be here soon, do you need a ride?" he questions, trying to be civil.

"_What! What were you doing to Misaki in that house? He was living there for three years, Usagi! For three years you were…were—" _Takahiro's voice chimes in and out of Ahikiko's head; he had never seen his friend—or any man—so angry with fluttered cheeks, veins popping, and hot red ears. Takahiro's gentle hands, his warm smile, all disappeared within a few small moments.

"Uh—well…that would save me the cab money." Takahiro bows, his hands still clamped together.

Immediately, Ahikiko regrets the idea. A wisp in his ear, Misaki.

Before long, Aikawa walks in, her cheeks blotched with red and eyes puffing. The black dress reaches a bit above her knees and all the way down to her wrists, where her black-gloved hands are grasping a small red box. She can not help but raise an eyebrow once she notices the two men standing awkwardly in silence.

"Ready?" her voice squeaks.

"What a ridiculous question," Ahikiko's narrowed eyes look from Takahiro back to Aikawa before he strides out of the room.

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><p>AN: Review, please. Tell me how awful or wonderful that was?  
>p.s. I met someone named takahiro today, oh man, it was beyond amazing!<p> 


	2. Act Two

**Kareta Zakuro**

_Act two._

Ahikiko looks up at the same sky that was screaming through his window, clouds drifted by in pale whiffs and shapeless smoke. He listens to the stop lights click as they change color, the cars drifting by, the swoosh of the younger kids whistling, and the distant putter of his heart beating against his ears. Today is about to happen and continue on like any other day.

_"U-U-Us-sagi-san, I told him; I couldn't help it, I had to…"_

Stepping into the sun, Ahikiko looks at the black car awaiting him. Strangely enough, he didn't recognize the chaffer, or the car. The doors open, revealing Isaka, sitting with his arm out stretched: an offering to a broken soul.

"Ahikiko, how are you on this beautiful day?" he chirps, his eyes glazed over with the same sadness everyone seemed to be sporting. Before the author could hand over an answer, Takahiro and Aikawa walk through the double doors of his house, dragging their feet.

The silence echoes in everyone's ears as Takahiro, Aikawa, Ahikiko, and Isaka venture on in the back of the car. Birds chip and sing outside, the sun smiles, and the four adults wait in silence.

"We're here," the man from the front says as he opens the door. The four stumble out, staring at the long set of stairs that await them. Not a sound could be heard as they walk silently up the steps, opening the door, revealing a dark box, surrounded by flowers. Inside Misaki's green eyes are closed, his hair set in place, and his face as pale as the moon.

Ahikiko stops half way through the door; his eyes are fixed on the body of the boy he loves more than the sun itself. Peacefully laying there, with flowers fixed around him on stands, in pots, and with plaques glaring in the dimmed light.

Today was here.

_"Misaki! Stop!" But it was too late._

Ahikiko feel his chest tighten, seconds later, a hand is placed on his back. Aikawa is standing there, her eyes puffy and glazing over. "It can only get better, Sensei," she mumbles against the silence of the hushed room.

Slowly, hours went by. People come and go. People bow and bat their eyes. They offer condolences and shake hands. Some look at Ahikiko standing beside Takahiro and Manami for a long while, judging and sizing up the situation; no one knows what happened.

Just as they had come, the visitors leave with perhaps more grief than they came with. Misaki continued to look rested, peaceful against the white cushions and flowers.

…

Ahikiko punches the wall as soon as the door shuts. He misses the smell of his cooking dinner, seeing Misaki's hair pulled back as he stirred the rice, the flutter of his heart when he saw Misaki's face turn red with embarrassment.

'Baka-Usagi.'

'But I'm all out of Misaki!'

The phrases and memories rush through his head. The viewing is over. Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow he has to say goodbye forever. Tears well up in his eyes, but he ignores them. He slumps up the stairs to sit in front of his computer. The words will not come out today. His fingers are numb and his heart's cold.

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><p>AN: I know this probably isn't like a Japanese funeral, or viewing, but it was more relatable, I hope. This was only supposed to be a one shot, and I'm making it into this ordeal about who knows what…. The _italics _are a , I'm sorry this is so short T)T


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